


Genesis

by baristadistrict



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Captain America: The First Avenger, F/M, One Shot, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Unrequited Crush, Unrequited Love, might do a part two, who knows - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-24
Updated: 2020-01-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:41:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22388863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baristadistrict/pseuds/baristadistrict
Summary: Bucky wants to meet you before leaving for the war.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 20





	Genesis

Summer in Brooklyn was a hot affair. Vendors peppered the side walks pushing ice cold treats and hot foods while children ran and played ball in the streets. Jazz poured out of opened windows of high towering apartments, their inhabitants sometimes seen hanging over the railing to get a good look at the street below. Men walking stiffly to work their brows licked in a thin sheen of sweat from wearing too many layers. Girls passing by in pastel skirts, usually in small groups talking as confidants, sparing glances at young men in crisp white tees. Wherever you went in Brooklyn, the city teemed in life. Citizens shaking off the snow and cold of the winter and enjoying the sunshine no matter how harsh it’s rays.

Bucky Barnes lazily eyed a group of young women as they walked slowly passed his table outside the cafe. He heard a few giggles and offered them a lopsided grin dipping his head in acknowledgment. Across the street a clunky city bus pulled to a screeching halt and opened its doors. Bucky sat up straighter as people started filing out, his slate blue eyes wandering over the passengers until they landed on you; he faintly registered a fluttering in his chest.

You rolled your head side to side, bent down picked up a discarded paper someone left on the side walk and tossed it into a nearby bin. Your yellow summer dress picked up slightly by the breeze. Bucky Barnes had never been a fan of yellow but it that moment it was the only color that mattered in the world. Your hair was pulled back in a bun showing off a hint of collar bone, your neck, your ears- just a few parts that made the whole perfect.

You started walking in the direction of the library and Bucky’s breath caught in his throat. He stumbled out of his chair as he watched you stop walking abruptly. You turned to look in his direction, your eyes sliding over his form taking in his shiny shoes, uniform, hat, eyes. From across the street Bucky could see the coy smile you displayed, he faintly registered hammering in his chest. You waited until he caught up to you before you started walking again. Slow steps taken by both of you on your respective sides of the street. 

This was a dance the two of you had performed before. Many times, actually, since the first time Bucky saw you step off the bus in a red polka dot number and the vision had caused him to trip over his own feet almost landing on top of Steve. Bucky casually let his hands meet behind his back and you followed suit earning a lopsided smirk, a smirk you returned. He passed by an ice cream vendor and pointed at the brightly colored cart, from across the street you shook your head. 

The two of you continued walking. When you got stuck waiting on a passel of children chasing each other down the sidewalk into the road, Bucky stopped and waited on his side watching the kids in mild bemusement. He wasn’t so far from boyhood that he couldn’t recall his own days of summer mischief. You turned to look at him and you smiled. A true genuine smile that lit you up from ear to ear and head to toe. 

Bucky faintly registered an aching in his chest.

Your walk continued half a block more, silent conversation held by two strangers whose hearts felt inexplicably entwined. The library loomed ahead all red brick and grey concrete- an ending in Bucky’s eyes. You stopped, stood at the bottom of the stairs that led up to the building. Bucky stopped as well forcing a gentleman to skirt around him at the last moment. Bucky vaguely heard the man call him a not so nice name. 

You looked sad as you took in his attire once more. His uniform was crisp and clean, as was his hat. A question in your eyes answered by a stiff nod from Bucky. Officially a soldier. Officially a man. You glanced down the street from which you two had made your journey and Bucky followed your gaze. How could two people in a city so busy feel alone? Bucky’s eyes went back to you and he noticed you had been staring at his shoes. Having a conversation with yourself and not winning the argument. Bucky imagined he was having the same argument. Wanting to cross the street. To hear your voice, hold your hand, your face, your body. Aching to be close to you, closer to you. All at once the street felt like an ocean stretched between two lonely islands. 

You smiled and tentatively raised a hand in goodbye. Bucky followed suit, a stoniness taking over his handsome features, and then he watched you climb the stairs and enter the library. He kicked at a pebble, swore under his breath, took his cap off ran a hand through brown hair. If Steve were there he’d be giving Bucky the speech of the century- he was good at those. He would say something poignant about love, even though Bucky’s sure Steve’s never felt it. But it would be smart and pure and true and it would make Bucky muster up all his courage. But Steve wasn’t there, and if Bucky had to guess where his friend was, he was most likely waiting in some cold room for an army official to tell him he’d been rejected yet again to join the forces.

Bucky pulled a piece of paper from his breast pocket and unfolded it carefully. 

“Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes of the 107th Division”

He put the paper away and looked around the street again. This was his home, and who knew when he would see it again after tomorrow. Who knew when he would see Steve, or his parents, or you again, if ever? That seemed to be the spark that lit the candle in Bucky’s mind. He waited for a taxi to pass before he dashed across the street and up the steps. 

The inside of the library was quiet and dimly lit. Oak tables and shelves, a librarian’s desk in the middle of the room, stairs leading to a second story of even more shelves. Plush chairs peppered the room, it felt comfortable and all at once suffocating to Bucky. He blinked and then walked slowly down an aisle of books ignoring the questioning face of the old librarian who he had startled with his emphatic throwing open of the door. He moved silently, footfalls muffled on olive carpet.

He took a left at the end of the aisle into another long pathway of shelved books and stopped. There you were, back turned to him, reaching up on tip toes to file away a book.

You were a vision in a yellow dress.

Bucky started towards you and stopped again. He could leave now. He could turn away and leave before you saw him. Leave the library and tomorrow leave the city and the country and be done. He would never have to know you. You would become a sweet distant memory he thought about in trenches and at night in his bunk. He watched you pick up another book from the cart at your side and reach up again to place it on the shelf. 

His chest ached, his fingers twitched, his mind was an angry ocean. A slight hum slipped from your lips as you carried on with your work. Oblivious to the wreck of a man standing so close to you yet so far from you. Bucky took a step closer imagining what it might feel like to hold you in his arms. Twirl you across a dance floor. And another step closer. Imagining light fingertips down your back, down your arms, resting his head in the crook of your neck and breathing in your perfume. 

If he wanted to he could reach out and touch you. He let go of a shaky breath he had been hiding somewhere deep. A breath that you must have felt fan across your bared neck because you tensed suddenly and the humming stopped. You stood still, one arm still extended up where you placed another book. It felt as if all the electricity in the room was running through his veins. Bucky reached out a shaking hand and lightly touched the skirt of your dress. 

“Doll?”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I might do a part two sometime down the line. Or tomorrow. I don’t know. Thank you so much for reading!


End file.
